


Sentinel School

by franscats



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 16:11:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7112992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/franscats/pseuds/franscats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair works at a facility that supports newly online adolescent sentinels.  When he's told that a sentinel is being brought to the facility, and he is the next in rotation and will be working with the sentinel, he's expecting a teenager, not a pissed off detective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sentinel School

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written as dues and can be considered pre-slash.

Blair Sandburg, guide and teacher at the sentinel school, looked up as fellow teacher, Mike Howard, walked in to the sentinel boy’s room. It was one of several rooms for newly online sentinels.

“Hey, B Man,” Mike smiled, flashing straight, white teeth. “I just got a call from Sentinel Dispatch; they’ve got a newly online sentinel on the way in.”

Blair blinked. “Newly online,” he repeated and then shrugged glancing around the boy’s room. “Boy or girl?”

“All they said was his name, James Ellison, no age given, no other info available, so I guess a boy,” Mike answered, his eyes following Blair’s as the two teachers glanced around the room. The room, while sentinel safe with low stress lighting and strong sound proofing, was furnished with things an adolescent boy might enjoy: legos, games, erector sets, things that might help a boy sentinel feel more comfortable away from home. Additionally, there was a big car bed against one wall and gaming system hooked up to a large television next to the bed. When a sentinel came online, usually around puberty, Sentinel Services took custody of the child for six weeks of evaluation and training. During those six weeks, the parents were taught how to support the special needs of a sentinel while guides at the Sentinel School worked with the emerging sentinel.

Sentinel Services and the Sentinel School tried to make the experience positive, like a sleep away camp, but sometimes the fancy room didn’t work. On those occasions, a guide went back to the sentinel’s home and prepared it, usually staying and working with the parents for the six weeks. At the end of the six week period, if the parents were deemed capable of supporting the child, the young sentinel was returned to the family. If not, the training was extended.

“Who’s the next guide on rotation?” Blair asked and watched Mike smile, smugly.

“You are.”

“Oh come on, I’ve got to defend my dissertation next week. I don’t have time to babysit a new sentinel,” Blair shook his head, his long curls flying about his face.

“Sorry Blair but I got the Mallory kid last week and there are no other guides available.”

Moaning at the ill timing, not the job, Blair stood and started for his office. “I’d better get my things together before the kid arrives.”

Walking down the hall, Blair considered the task before him. Sentinels did not like change, even sentinel children didn’t like change, so the first couple of days away from home were usually fairly traumatic and the teachers needed to stay close. Normally, Blair didn’t mind, but he was a little pressed for time just now, what with defending his doctorate. Stopping at his office and gathering his papers, Blair wondered why he continued to work at the school. A fully accredited guide, he could apply for pairing with a sentinel, but something had never felt right about going through some gene testing - matching making service. He always thought he would find his real sentinel, perhaps at the school, or the home of one of his students. But he never had and now, 5 years after starting at the school, the sentinels that came in would be way too young for him. He would be at least 15 years older when they were ready to bond and Blair couldn’t see himself starting a new career in fieldwork in his early forties.

An hour later, having heard the new sentinel had arrived and had been moved into the boy’s room, Blair walked back in and stopped in his tracks. Before him was a handsome, tall man, with an extremely well defined, muscled body and a finely chiseled face. His whole attitude exuded masculine power but it was the man’s eyes that held Blair’s attention. They were the clearest blue he had ever seen.

The man had turned at Blair’s entrance but made no move toward him as the guide smiled a greeting. “You must be Mr. Ellison, Jimmy’s father.”

The man raised an eyebrow. “I’m Jim Ellison,” he clarified.

“But where’s the boy?”

“What boy?”

“Your son, the sentinel?”

“Look Chief, as I told the last guy that came in here, I’m Jim Ellison. And I don’t have a son.”

“You’re the sentinel Sentinel Services sent over?” Blair asked his voice edged with a touch of what sounded like incredulous, amusement. But the smile died as he looked at the obviously, impatient man before him.

“Yeah.”

Blair sighed and closed his eyes, shaking his head at bureaucratic absurdity. “Mr. Ellison, there’s been some kind of mistake. This facility is for young sentinels just coming on line.”

“I tried to tell that to the people who brought me in this little playroom of yours,” Jim Ellison growled, his arms crossing his well-muscled chest in a defiant manner as he glared at Blair. “But they insisted I needed to come in because I just came online.”

“I do apologize,” Blair answered. “There’s obviously been a big mix up. I’m Blair Sandburg, a teacher at the school and a registered guide.” Blair thought about stepping forward and offering his hand but the sentinel was very closed off and Blair could see he needed some space.

“Can I leave now?” Jim answered pretty much ignoring the introduction as he continued to stare at the guide in front of him. “I have a court date next week and two investigations I’m working on.”

“Mr. Ellison, you’ll still need training, just not at this facility.” Blair indicated the table and chairs. “Let’s sit a minute.” Blair turned to a table set in the corner of the room, taking a seat and inwardly cringing at the cute trains and boats on the placemat in front of him that read _Are You Having Fun at the Sentinel School Sleep Away Camp?_ “What do you do for a living?”

Jim, who hadn’t moved from where he stood, glared at Sandburg. “I’m a detective.”

Blair nodded, silently thanking whatever deities he could name that Jim Ellison wasn’t a fire fighter. Sentinels had a tendency to go into protective services, police, search and rescue, etc. however, they were not allowed in the fire department because of the high risk of zoning on toxic fumes. And Blair was glad he wouldn’t have to tell Mr. Ellison that his career was over. He wasn’t sure Jim Ellison wouldn’t “kill the messenger.”

“Your senses will be a major asset. When did they come online?”

“Last week.”

Late onset was very rare, Blair knew this, but once in a while it happened, and when it did, the sentinel usually had senses at the top end of the scale. Scientists weren’t sure why that happened, only that late onset sentinels were almost always super sensitive. Jim would need a guide and fast, especially considering his line of work. “Well detective, you’ll still need training but not at a facility for adolescents.” Blair looked around and smiled and then back at the sentinel, his face sobering. “I’ll put in a call to Rainier and see if we can get you placed.”

Jim bristled at the statement. “I’ve been taking care of myself for twenty years. I don’t need to be **placed** anywhere. I might have to endure the training, but I am not going to a **Sleep Away Camp** ,” he answered indicating the mat.

“Do you live with someone?”

“No, I live alone.”

Blair shook his head at the response. There was no way Sentinel Services would let an emergent, late onset, stay alone. “Look, Jim,” he paused. “May I call you Jim,” at the nod Blair continued. “The chances of you zoning are really high. I’m afraid you can’t stay alone.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

Blair took a breath in frustration trying to rally his argument but before he could, Jim continued. “Have you ever heard the term habeas corpus?” he asked coolly. Blair nodded, dismally. Sentinel Services did not broadcast the fact, but technically an adult sentinel could not be forced to stay at one of their training facilities. Unlike a child, an adult could make an informed decision about whether or not to stay. When Sentinel Services had first started, the newly formed bureau had insisted that all sentinels (young and old) be placed in a training facility for six weeks. That edict lasted for about two years and then a sentinel had taken them to court. As a citizen, the sentinel felt she was being incarcerated without doing anything wrong. Unable to see her family, except while monitored during visiting hours, she had her lawyer petition the court and it was decided that yes, Sentinel Services was violating sentinels’ rights. After that, though it was recommended sentinels stay at a sentinel safe facility for the six weeks of mandated intensive training, it was no longer a requirement. “I looked up the laws before they brought me here. I am required to do the six weeks of training but there is no law that says I have to stay anywhere I don’t want to.”

“You’re right,” Blair nodded. “But you still need support for the six weeks. You are going to come online hard. Latent sentinels always do. You are on the top of the sentinel chain, man. You are going to need serious training and you won’t be able to do it alone. Spikes and zone outs are a given for the next six weeks.”

Jim glanced over at Blair and shook his head. “I’m not moving out of my place for six weeks.”

In Jim’s words, Blair could hear the mantra, “Sentinels don’t like change.”

“Is there anyone who could stay with you: a family member, a girlfriend, a colleague, a friend?”

“No.” The answer was succinct.

Blair pushed his hair back trying to think. He knew Jim Ellison couldn’t stay alone. Even beyond the six weeks, as a latent onset, he was likely to zone. He needed a permanent guide. Permanent guides bonded with their sentinels and created a baseline so the sentinels could have better control. And, a permanent guide would instinctively know when something was wrong, even when apart.

“Look I know this is all new and strange but you need to understand what’s happening. You are going to suffer migraines and fugue states until you have a guide.”

“I thought that’s what the six weeks of training was to prevent.”

“It is,” Blair agreed. “Usually, but in your case, you’re going to be a high end sentinel. You’re going to need extra help. A guide will take care of those problems.”

“And if I don’t want one?”

“Why wouldn’t you want one? A guide is not your enemy, man. A guide would be there to stabilize you.”

“Look, Sandburg, I’m not here to argue the pros and cons of having a guide. Set up my six weeks of training because I am leaving.”

“I’ll just go to my office and make some arrangements.” He looked around about to say, “Make yourself comfortable,” but then thought he better not. Instead, he said, “I’ll be right back.”

Jim nodded and Blair took off down the hall to his office. Going in, he reached down to pick up his phone and stopped. Something wasn’t right. He could feel it. Dropping the phone, he started to turn back to the boy’s room, unsure why, but then shook his head. He hadn’t made any arrangements yet and Ellison didn’t seem the patient type, but for some reason Blair felt he needed to return to the sentinel. Deciding he would follow his instincts, he was half way back to Ellison when he saw Mike.

“Hey, Mike. Could you do me a favor? Call the Institute and enroll Jim Ellison for the six weeks. He’s a late onset adult.”

“And they sent him here,” Mike commented looking over Blair, a smile on his face that slowly died.

“Yeah.”

“You okay Blair, you look kind of funny.”

“I don’t know. I just have this feeling that something is wrong with Ellison.”

“Maybe, you’re his guide B man.”

“I doubt that,” Blair’s voice echoed as he continued down the hall.

Rushing into the boy’s room, Blair stopped in his tracks. Jim Ellison was perfectly still, eyes staring into the distance, zoned. “Shit,” the guide whispered and moved forward, a hand reaching up to rest on the sentinel’s chest. “Come on back, Jim,” Blair’s voice soothed, dropping into low sultry tones. “You want to come back now, sentinel.”

Blair watched as Jim blinked and then frowned. “What happened?”

“You zoned. What were you focusing on?”

Jim shrugged, a bit of color on his cheeks. “I was listening to you walk down the hall.”

“That is so cool. I know the door was open but these walls are made soundproof. Your hearing must be way up there,” Blair answered, reluctantly taking a step back, his hand dropping from the large expanse of chest. “This is why you are going to need a guide, Jim. And why you can’t stay alone for the next six weeks.”

“I’ll find a way to cope, I’m not leaving the loft.”

“Well, what if a guide came to stay with you?”

“You offering?”

Blair paused at the question. He had so much to do. He had his doctorate to defend next week. He had his job here to consider. But Jim was a sentinel in need and Blair a guide who never found his sentinel. Blair’s mind screamed it couldn’t be this simple but he’d never know if he didn’t try. “Yeah, I am. What do you say?”

Jim’s eyes traveled over Blair and Blair shivered at the look, wondering what he was getting into. As a fully accredited guide, he could support the sentinel but he was sure something more than support was going on here. Jim was responding as a sentinel, to his guide.

“I live at 852 Prospect. You can have the second bedroom. It’s small but clean.”

Blair nodded. “I’ll gather some stuff and then I’ll give you a lift to your place if you don’t mind my stopping at home to get some gear. But understand you’re still going to have to go through the six weeks of training. But I bet I can help make the six weeks a bit easier.”

Nodding, Jim stuck out his hand. “Deal.”

“Deal,” Blair replied, taking the offered hand with a smile, and wondering if, just maybe, his life was about to change. Glancing over at the tall, handsome figure, Blair mentally added, “for the better.”


End file.
